In which Cissie tells Bonnie about Bart and the Bakery [SWS]
A truth should exist, it should not be used like this. If I love you, is that a fact or a weapon? - Margaret Atwood
Cissie hates that things with her mother are so complicated. They're much better than they used to be. Not living together and having a few hours drive between them have helped, but she hates that that's what it took. She hates a lot of things when she stops to think about it, so she tries not to. She also hates that she still feels like she needs her mother's approval, even if she tells herself she doesn't.
She hates being nervous to tell her own mother the amazing things that are making her happy.
They chat about the nice weather, and some new archery equipment that's hit the market, and about Anita's parents and Ish's job. Cissie decides to leave out anything about Young Justice. She's just not ready to open that particular can of worms. But there are some things she needs to tell Bonnie.
"So, Mom. I--have a boyfriend."
Her mother is quiet on the other end of the phone, and then says, "Oh? When did this happen? How long have you been seeing him?"
Well, that's tricky. "About a week."
"Hmm." Her mother hums a little, and then says, "You're not having sex with him, are you?"
"MOM!"
"What? It's a valid question! Should I pretend I don't know you're old enough to be doing that? At least tell me you use protection. All it takes is one time, you know. Besides, how long have you been seeing him? Don't have sex too soon. I know I've said it before, but it can ruin a relationship, and a relationship built on sex isn't worth anything anyway. You don't want to sleep with a guy too soon and then find out you're pregnant. I mean, look at me."
Cissie can literally feel her blood pressure rising as her mother talks and she has a harsh rebuttal all prepared, until those last three words. Then she feels as if she's been kicked in the gut. "...What is that supposed to mean?"
"I'm saying that if you sleep with a guy too soon and don't use a condom--are you on birth control? You should be on birth control--you will ruin your life."
Cissie has nothing to say to that. Absolutely nothing. She doesn't even know how to process it. She's quiet so long that her mother asks if she's still there. She is tempted to hang up, but instead she says, "I'm in love with him and we're opening a bakery."
This time it's her mother's turn to be silent, but Cissie doesn't check to see if she's there. She can hear her breathing, and she's hurting and wishing she wasn't. "How long have you been seeing him? Is he an archer?"
Trust her to ignore the part about the bakery. "About a week, but I've known him for years. No."
"You're in love with him after a week?" Bonnie asks skeptically. "Cissie, be serious."
Her temper flares. "I am serious, mother. I love him. I've loved him for years and he's one of my best friends, and now I love him differently. He makes me happy. Can't you just be happy for me?"
There is another silence. "Kevin made you happy at first."
How does her mother know exactly what to say to hurt her? Is it some special Mom-trick? Cissie can hardly breathe. "Wow. Okay. Thanks."
"I'm just saying--"
"I know what you're saying. You're saying you slept with Ollie, got pregnant with me and it ruined your life. I'm so glad. And now you're throwing my ex-boyfriend at me because you think I need some perspective. I don't. Bart's different and what we have is different. And I don't care what you think anyway."
She lies. If she didn't care, it wouldn't hurt this much.
Bonnie is quiet for a moment. "Cissie. I didn't mean that you ruined my life. You are the best thing I've ever done. You know that. I love you."
Cissie closes her eyes. There's just so much she wants to say, but she can't find the words. "I know," she says finally. Because she does, or she hopes she does, and if nothing else, she wants to believe her. But there is a part of her that is still five years old, who wants to go to kindergarten, who doesn't want to take self-defense and karate and gymnastics instead, who still fears that her mother won't love her if she isn't perfect and obedient. Being on her own since she was fourteen somehow hasn't killed that part of her.
"I just want what's best for you."
"I know." She does know. She also knows that Bonnie's definition of 'best' is 'what Bonnie thinks is best.' "I'm opening a bakery." Rip off the band-aid. Pour salt in the wound. From the frying pan into the fire.
Bonnie is quiet again. "Why?"
"Because I want to. I like baking. It's different." Cissie shrugs. "We have a location."
"Do you know anything about running a bakery?"
"I've been reading on it."
Bonnie is quiet, and her voice is a bit harder when she speaks. "Most businesses like that fail in their first year, you know."
Cissie can only sigh.
"I'm just saying. You don't know anything about running a bakery. Why on Earth would you want to work in food services? Cissie. What about your acting career? I'm sure Jo--"
"I am not calling anyone about acting. I didn't like it, I'm not doing it anymore," Cissie snaps.
"All right, fine. But what about your career? What about archery?"
"I'm still going to compete."
Bonnie scoffs. "You can't possibly put the amount of time into training and competing that you need to if you're running a bakery. Do you know the hours those people have to keep? You can't want to spend the rest of your life getting up at 4 am to make cinnamon rolls."
"What if I do?" Cissie asks, her voice rising. "What if I want to own a bakery with Bart and spend the next forty years making cinnamon rolls and not worrying about my shoulder giving out or tearing a muscle? What if I don't want to compete anymore?"
It's not true. Cissie wants to compete. She needs it. Competing has been what's kept her grounded since giving up heroing, and she can't give up her archery. She wouldn't know what to do with herself, but she doesn't know how else to lash out at her mother.
"Then you'll be wasting your talent, your potential and your life. Is this your new boyfriend's idea? Cissie, don't change yourself for--"
"Mom, you don't know what you're talking about," Cissie interrupts. "He doesn't want to change me. You do."
"That is not true."
Cissie sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Fine. Whatever. So I take it you don't approve."
"I don't."
"Okay then." Cissie isn't surprised. Not really. That it still hurts is what's surprising. "I'll talk to you later, Ma. I have to go."
They exchange goodbyes and Cissie is left curled up on her couch, wondering why her mother still has this much power over her.
Cissie hates that things with her mother are so complicated. They're much better than they used to be. Not living together and having a few hours drive between them have helped, but she hates that that's what it took. She hates a lot of things when she stops to think about it, so she tries not to. She also hates that she still feels like she needs her mother's approval, even if she tells herself she doesn't.
She hates being nervous to tell her own mother the amazing things that are making her happy.
They chat about the nice weather, and some new archery equipment that's hit the market, and about Anita's parents and Ish's job. Cissie decides to leave out anything about Young Justice. She's just not ready to open that particular can of worms. But there are some things she needs to tell Bonnie.
"So, Mom. I--have a boyfriend."
Her mother is quiet on the other end of the phone, and then says, "Oh? When did this happen? How long have you been seeing him?"
Well, that's tricky. "About a week."
"Hmm." Her mother hums a little, and then says, "You're not having sex with him, are you?"
"MOM!"
"What? It's a valid question! Should I pretend I don't know you're old enough to be doing that? At least tell me you use protection. All it takes is one time, you know. Besides, how long have you been seeing him? Don't have sex too soon. I know I've said it before, but it can ruin a relationship, and a relationship built on sex isn't worth anything anyway. You don't want to sleep with a guy too soon and then find out you're pregnant. I mean, look at me."
Cissie can literally feel her blood pressure rising as her mother talks and she has a harsh rebuttal all prepared, until those last three words. Then she feels as if she's been kicked in the gut. "...What is that supposed to mean?"
"I'm saying that if you sleep with a guy too soon and don't use a condom--are you on birth control? You should be on birth control--you will ruin your life."
Cissie has nothing to say to that. Absolutely nothing. She doesn't even know how to process it. She's quiet so long that her mother asks if she's still there. She is tempted to hang up, but instead she says, "I'm in love with him and we're opening a bakery."
This time it's her mother's turn to be silent, but Cissie doesn't check to see if she's there. She can hear her breathing, and she's hurting and wishing she wasn't. "How long have you been seeing him? Is he an archer?"
Trust her to ignore the part about the bakery. "About a week, but I've known him for years. No."
"You're in love with him after a week?" Bonnie asks skeptically. "Cissie, be serious."
Her temper flares. "I am serious, mother. I love him. I've loved him for years and he's one of my best friends, and now I love him differently. He makes me happy. Can't you just be happy for me?"
There is another silence. "Kevin made you happy at first."
How does her mother know exactly what to say to hurt her? Is it some special Mom-trick? Cissie can hardly breathe. "Wow. Okay. Thanks."
"I'm just saying--"
"I know what you're saying. You're saying you slept with Ollie, got pregnant with me and it ruined your life. I'm so glad. And now you're throwing my ex-boyfriend at me because you think I need some perspective. I don't. Bart's different and what we have is different. And I don't care what you think anyway."
She lies. If she didn't care, it wouldn't hurt this much.
Bonnie is quiet for a moment. "Cissie. I didn't mean that you ruined my life. You are the best thing I've ever done. You know that. I love you."
Cissie closes her eyes. There's just so much she wants to say, but she can't find the words. "I know," she says finally. Because she does, or she hopes she does, and if nothing else, she wants to believe her. But there is a part of her that is still five years old, who wants to go to kindergarten, who doesn't want to take self-defense and karate and gymnastics instead, who still fears that her mother won't love her if she isn't perfect and obedient. Being on her own since she was fourteen somehow hasn't killed that part of her.
"I just want what's best for you."
"I know." She does know. She also knows that Bonnie's definition of 'best' is 'what Bonnie thinks is best.' "I'm opening a bakery." Rip off the band-aid. Pour salt in the wound. From the frying pan into the fire.
Bonnie is quiet again. "Why?"
"Because I want to. I like baking. It's different." Cissie shrugs. "We have a location."
"Do you know anything about running a bakery?"
"I've been reading on it."
Bonnie is quiet, and her voice is a bit harder when she speaks. "Most businesses like that fail in their first year, you know."
Cissie can only sigh.
"I'm just saying. You don't know anything about running a bakery. Why on Earth would you want to work in food services? Cissie. What about your acting career? I'm sure Jo--"
"I am not calling anyone about acting. I didn't like it, I'm not doing it anymore," Cissie snaps.
"All right, fine. But what about your career? What about archery?"
"I'm still going to compete."
Bonnie scoffs. "You can't possibly put the amount of time into training and competing that you need to if you're running a bakery. Do you know the hours those people have to keep? You can't want to spend the rest of your life getting up at 4 am to make cinnamon rolls."
"What if I do?" Cissie asks, her voice rising. "What if I want to own a bakery with Bart and spend the next forty years making cinnamon rolls and not worrying about my shoulder giving out or tearing a muscle? What if I don't want to compete anymore?"
It's not true. Cissie wants to compete. She needs it. Competing has been what's kept her grounded since giving up heroing, and she can't give up her archery. She wouldn't know what to do with herself, but she doesn't know how else to lash out at her mother.
"Then you'll be wasting your talent, your potential and your life. Is this your new boyfriend's idea? Cissie, don't change yourself for--"
"Mom, you don't know what you're talking about," Cissie interrupts. "He doesn't want to change me. You do."
"That is not true."
Cissie sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Fine. Whatever. So I take it you don't approve."
"I don't."
"Okay then." Cissie isn't surprised. Not really. That it still hurts is what's surprising. "I'll talk to you later, Ma. I have to go."
They exchange goodbyes and Cissie is left curled up on her couch, wondering why her mother still has this much power over her.